


Mashed Potatoes

by TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite



Series: Sam Winchester Reader-inserts [30]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 21:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9677471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite/pseuds/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite
Summary: #9, first Thanksgiving together, for @one-shots-supernatural and “There goes your heart, bud” for @keepingitrealcasThe reader has never had a real Thanksgiving. Neither have the Winchesters. That is about to change.





	

Thanksgiving has never been a big deal to you. A life and family full of hunters tends to have that effect. You thought any desires for Thanksgiving traditions died with your parents on that Wendigo hunt. Apparently, you thought wrong. Something about your relationship with Sam and finding a home in the form of the bunker has reignited those desires.

Now, a few days before Thanksgiving finds you intently researching how exactly to make any of the traditional foods. Like turkey. How do you cook a whole turkey? How big a turkey should you get? Probably a big one, but you’re worried it won’t fit in the oven.

It’s a little awkward when Dean walks in on you measuring the inside of the oven.

“What are you doing?” he questions, leaning casually on his elbows on the stovetop.

“Measuring so I know how big of a turkey I can get,” you reply calmly.

“A turkey?”

“Yes. Thanksgiving is coming up.” You write down the last measurement and stand up. “I need to go to the store. Can I borrow the Impala?”

“Uh, how about I go with you?”

“Whatever. Let’s go.”

* * *

Sam’s sitting in the library when you and Dean get back from the store. He lifts an eyebrow at the number of bags the two of you are holding.

“What’s this?” he asks, setting down his book and meeting you at the bottom of the stairs. He kisses you softly, taking some of the bags as he does. “This is a lot of food.”

“Should be. We a have a lot of people coming.”

“People?” he shoots Dean a confused look, following you into the

The older man shrugs. “Ask her, not me.”

He looks to you. “Y/N? What are you up to?”

“I’m making Thanksgiving dinner,” you say, setting your bags on the counter and turning to smile at him. “There’s a few more bags in the car. Could you go get them for me?”

Sam stands there in stunned silence while you begin unloading things. Dean snickers, nudging his brother’s side with his elbow.

“ **There goes your heart, bud** ,” he says. “Come on, few is an understatement.”

* * *

According to you, dinner will be ready in less than an hour. Guests have started to arrive. The list isn’t a long one, but it’s more people than Sam’s ever seen in the bunker at one time. Right now, Garth is helping Cas push tables together in the library. Dean is carrying chairs up from the bedrooms to make more places to sit. Alex is spreading table cloths. Claire follows behind with a stack of plates. Jesse and Cesar have just arrived, carrying several pies Cesar made.

Sam is standing in the doorway, feeling a little useless. Looking for something to do, he ventures down the hall to the kitchen. You enlisted Donna and Jody’s help as soon as they walked in the doors and the three of you are hard at work.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Sam asks hopefully, cautiously entering the room.

“Yes, finish mashing these,” you say, shoving a bowl of hot mostly mashed potatoes and the potato masher-thingy. into his hands. “When they’re smooth, mash that stuff in.” You point to a bowl of milk and stick of butter on the counter. “Then salt and pepper.”

Sam leans against the table and gets to work. He considers himself a strong guy with decent stamina, but by the time he’s done, he’s feeling lucky that the potatoes were already pretty much finished. His biceps are burning.

“Wuss,” Y/N says fondly when he complains. She presses a kiss to his cheek. “Go tell everyone to wash up. It’s time to eat.”

Sam has never been this happy in his life, he’s pretty sure. He’s sitting in the bunker library, with his brother on one side and the love of his life on the other, and a table full of amazing food, surrounded by the people who matter most to him.

He reaches over and takes your hand in his. You look up from your plate and smile.

“Having a good time?” you ask.

“The best. Thank you so much for doing this.”

You press a kiss to his lips. “Thank you for letting me. I love you, Sam.”

“I love you, too.”

“Enough of the mushy stuff,” Dean says around a mouthful of food. “Eat.”

Sam rolls his eyes, but he eats.


End file.
